Incredulously, incorrigibly incorruptibly incompetentable incredibleness😳

I don’t know ‘bout you.

But.

I don’t know what to believe anymore.

I look ahead.

I look behind.

It all looks the same.

Vast.

Endless.

Dry.

Cracked.

A bit hard on the feet.

I proceeded forward, anyway.

With hope in my heart.

More importantly.

Reality in my head.

Throughout my existence, I sought to handle reality with ease.

Give me a stack of Bibles.

And I will swear over them.

About it.

To it.

With personal responsibility as my guide.

With the respect of a tiny bug looking up at the bottom of a shoe working its way down swiftly to stomp on,

Me.

My numero nuo goal in this life,

My life,

Is to prepare you.

And.

Because I walk with Him, with God, I share the wisdom I have learned.

Confession:

Disclaimer:

In no way am I attempting to convert you. In no way am I attempting to brain wash you or your beautiful thoughts, words, actions and feelings.

I share with you all because beauty has been shared with me.

So many times.

I did not always know it in the moment.

One can say I am late to the party, slow on the uptake, missing the bus, etcetera, etcetera.

What I wonder.

Have we collectively hit “rock bottom?”

Or.

Is there room to grow and change and be there for one another.

I hope so.

As we have exhaustingly pointed out,

Hope can be a four letter word😳🫤.

Now what.

I don’t know about you, there is wayyyy to much talking and not enough

A-C-T-I-O-N.

Dear God, No. Not that.

Good actions on behalf of one another’s well being.

Well being.

A novel concept.

Not a novel contagion.

Lock downs and lost time and tithes, charitable, non profitable.

Being there.

Dumping wads of cash may be helpful in the short-sighted short term.

That is not the way to bring people together.

Really.

Resentment is the number one offender(lk)

Some folks never learn this.

If I wagered, which I do not.

I would wager to say that resentment does a number on the heart…..

In a way that there may be no returning from.

It is nothing to do with forgiveness.

Forgiveness is actually a selfish action When you stop and really examine the potential motivations driving it.

Discernment is a whole ‘nother ball game.

This game’s rules: Wisdom. Understanding. Insight.

Discernment takes examination to the next level.

Raising hell level.

Protest in a loud and angry way.

“Discernment is not knowing the difference between right and wrong. It is knowing the difference between right and almost right.” (CS)

Not especially good for the heart. Because it involves tough action. Steadfast.

Profligate at the gate of hell, and chances are you will have a lifetime of regrets unmanageable by a short-sighted me, me, me, me. In all areas of this crazy life.

This goes for corn, too.

Totally confused ya there, huh.

Circling back to the contagion calamity, previously mentioned. There is no reparational forgiveness for the resistance, antibiotic, hand held, mouthed or shouted.

Once it is out.

It is out.

There may be no putting it back.

In its place.

Ironically as I walked on. This endless road, my thoughts went back and forth.

To what I thought was a simpler time.

It was all so familiar.

Yet.

Here I was again.

Taking less than.

Ironically, I happened upon a friend.

It was a bug.

Could have been a lady bug.

At this time, I was not very versed in bugdom.

I felt a kind of kinship with this tiny little being. I knew how it felt to look up at people, waiting, just waiting to be stomped on. So. I picked up my tiny little friend and we had a chat.

Found a comfortable rock in the vast desert land and we compared notes.

About being tiny.

Being scared.

Thinking no one is there.

For me.

About crawling.

About learning to crawl before walking.

My concern was for my little friend to have some water.

In the hot desert heat, I was both grateful and worried about my tiny friend staying alive.

My thoughts wandered.

My tiny friend sat quietly in my hand.

We talked about what it feels like to “look up” to others.

Not in the way that regards.

Not everyone has earned the respect of another in that way.

Some may say, l’ll know it when I see it.”

I say,

”I know it when I feel it.”

My tiny little friend agreed.

I cannot really prove that to you.

You see, my tiny friend and I are of the same cloth.

We tend to need proof.

About stuff.

See it.

Touch it.

Hear it.

Taste it

Smell it.

At times.

Sensory overload occurs and blows it all up.

The theories.

The stories.

The this, the that.

My tiny little friend felt comfortable enough with our little moment to change positions. On my hand. I felt so gigantic. That is the mystery of thoughts, feelings and the like. We are but one little pea on this whole big earth.

One little seed. Can beautifully grow into a giant sturdy tree.

I hope for that.

Really.

Remember, however.

Hope can be a four letter word.

Nature versus nurture is not for the weak. The weary.

We must truthfully know what we are dealing with. Wagering on the life of another does nothing to improve our neighbor’s well being.

It is not just up to everyone.

It is up to us.

Incredulously incredible, actually.

That this tiny bug and I met out here.

Two lives brought together.

By the need and desire to belong.

Skeptical.

Cynical

Unbelieving.

And. Yet.

Here we are.

Still.

And it feels ok.

Incredible, too.

Time marched on and on and on and on, etcetera, etcetera.

Missing busses.

Late to parties.

Slow on uptakes.

And.

I’m ok.

You’re ok.

We shared some humdinger stories about stuff. Lotsa stuff.

Mostly bad stuff.

And here we are.

Still standing!

Feels rather nice, rather good.

When goodness takes the lead.

Knowing.

That it, the pain, could return at a moment’s notice.

Is a scary place to be.

But not out here.

Not this place.

Without words, my tiny new friend and I had decided to take on the world of doubt.

This crazy world of doubt.

Day by day.

One day at a time.